Golden Bells
by alirodina
Summary: KadsukixRenxJubei. a little fic based on a fairy tale by the brothers Grimm
1. The Story of the Shogun's Daughter

Get Backers: Golden Bells

Author's note: This isn't mine. Wish Katsuki and Akabane were, though. :: evil grin:: though I couldn't say no to Emishi as well. Anyway, this isn't yaoi. Not even shounen ai. XP. But it's not hetero either. Personally, I like Ren better for Katsuki than Jubei. Ren seems to be what Katsuki is not but should be. It really pissed me off, not say anything about depression, that she was but virtual reality. :: sigh :: we can't have everything just so in life, right? Anyhow, that's how fanfic writing started, right?   
They are not what they seem. Cologne, Ranma ½ 

Part 1: The Story of the Shogun's Daughter

In the reign of Minamoto Yoritomo, emperor of Japan, when he had first assigned military lands with military officers and before the Hojo clan gained so much power they dominated the whole empire, there lived a shogun who so loved his wife that he would never have thought of denying her anything. In fact, so much his affection for this lady that he married her against the advice of the astrologer, who foretold that she would bear him a son who would prove to be his downfall. His mother, who meant only well for her oldest son, advised him against marrying the good lady as well, for the beautiful wife had the most delicate of constitution. In spite of this, or maybe even because of this, the shogun being only human like the rest of us, he proposed to the lady in question and was gratified by herself proving to be one the best wives in the empire. He was, understandably crushed when she contracted a fatal disease several years after their union. It must also be told that the good lady had provided him only a daughter all the time of their marriage to comfort him in his old age, and as much as the astrologer had warned him against it, the shogun was in need of an heir.

And so, it was in a troubled state of mind indeed, that he entered his wife's chambers to see if his help would be required in any way. The physician did not have the heart to send the poor man away, even if he sometimes hindered his assistants rather than helped because he knew that the shogun's wife was very sick and indeed had not long to live in this world. When the time came, he bowed as politely as he could to the shogun and suggested that perhaps his daughter should be called for, as matters stood that the lady would not last long.

The shogun received this news with a strangled cry before hailing one of his wife's attendants to summon his daughter who was then with one of the minstrels and learning to play the guitar. This was not a requirement of a lady's accomplishments, but she possessed such wit and remarkable talent for music that at last, her father had given in.

When the maid told the shogun's daughter that her mother was about to die, the child stood up with the guitar pressed against her chest. ' Does she want me to come to her, Sora?' asked she.

' Why yes. The shogun called for you, my lady.' The flustered maid stammered in reply. ' You best go there now.'

The shogun's daughter placed the guitar gently on the table without another word and went to her mother's room in time to hear her last words.

Her mother had her back turned to the sliding doors, and the shogun's daughter did not enter the room immediately. She stood by the physician, looking at her mother with an impassive expression on her face. Her mother did not call for her.

' Koibito.' She murmured, pressing the shogun's hand feebly. ' I had a strange dream. So strange that I took it as a warning… a vision.'

The shogun leant towards the prostrate form of his wife with a curious frown. 'What is it, then, koibito?' he whispered as tenderly as he could, despite the unshed tears that choked up his sentence pitifully.

' Just promise me one thing,' his wife answered, without waiting for his reply, as if time was running out. ' You are not to marry a woman whose hair is not as long and warm brown as mine, eyes the exact hue of weak tea and whose smile not as elusive as mine… my vision has told me this. Promise me.'

' Then I promise. Worry not.'

And so, the shogun's wife died.

……….

Many years have passed since the death of the shogun's wife, and yet the worthy man had not been fortunate enough to meet such a woman his wife had described to him. He had journeyed far across the empire in hopes of finding a maiden to marry, since he still needed an heir, but something was always lacking in them. He had seen many a pretty maiden, but not of them had warm brown hair, eyes the color of weak tea and smile as sad and wistful as his wife's. He had been away from his home a decade before he finally despaired of finding a new wife.

The shogun headed for home with the heaviest of hearts. He was getting on in years and the thought of giving up what he had worked so hard for to a distant nephew after his death depressed him. He so needed an heir, but what was he to do when he could not find a wife who would fulfill his old love's standards! For such was his love for her that he would not have thought of breaking his promise to her. The sight of his house further deepened his sorrow as he was painfully reminded of his dead wife. He was in such a state that he ordered his men to go on home before him and decided to walk around the woods that bordered the village at the south, allowing his horse to go on with the men to rest.

While he was walking, he noticed a figure leaning towards the pond in so precarious an angle that the shogun was afraid that they would surely fall. Curiously, he walked slowly towards the figure, wincing whenever the cracklings of the woods beneath his feet betrayed his presence to this curious individual.

As he approached, he saw that the figure was indeed a woman and that she was playing a guitar in so skillful a manner that the shogun thought that a goddess herself deigned walk the earths and surrounded him with her heavenly music. He was close enough to touch her, and he cleared his throat to attract her attention.

She turned towards him slowly, and his breath caught in his throat. ' Koibito?' he stammered, staring now at his dead wife's countenance. Here was the same shade of hair, the same tear drowned eyes. She was not smiling, but he was sure that had she been, it would have been sad and wistful. She was even wearing the twin chimes his love used to wear. Tears rose to his eyes. ' Have you come back for me?'

The vision frowned at him. ' Otousan?'

……….

The name of the shogun's daughter was Katsuki. She was only ten when her father left his household in search of a wife, leaving his advisers to take care of his village, his home, and even his own daughter. Katsuki herself did not miss her father. She had been an independent child then and such an abandonment did not affect her in the least. What did bother her was the fact that since the village felt pity for her plight, they all considered her as part of their family, thus making her share the communal life. Everything that she did was looked at with so close a scrutiny that she felt the overwhelming desire to rebel.

As she grew up, the feeling did not pass away. Her mother, for all her delicacy, had been a very pretty woman, and that beauty she had passed on to her daughter, less the sorrowful look the late lady used to wear. Many a man had seen and was awed by the distant coldness in the shogun's daughter's manner and visage, but awed for more with her beauty they tried persistently to ask for her hand. But they all came home disappointed. The shogun was not present to pick the proper husband for his lovely daughter. And Katsuki had no wish to marry.

But now, she was facing a proposal she could not very well refuse, but would only open to her the eternal fires of hell.

' Why otousan?'

Her father faced her in a frenzied manner that bespoke of his deteriorating mind. Telling her in a frightening manner of the promise that he made ten years ago to her dead mother never to marry a woman whose hair was not the same hue as hers, whose eyes are not the color of weak tea, and whose smile was not as sad as hers. He spoke of the despair of his journey… only to find that such a woman existed by his side all along!

His daughter pressed her kinship to him, reminding him that such practices was abhorred by the villagers and that he would lose his popularity with them and even risk an uprising if he would continue his mad machinations. But the shogun only smiled in such a way that struck fear in his daughter's heart, insisting that it was she that he must marry. She was to refuse him to her death, but his mad heart sensed this, and threatened to pass a decree to hang her with every unmarried maiden in the village if she would not accept his love.

The shogun's daughter was a cold woman, and she knew that she would not care as much if she died then, but to let other women die with her made her pause. For, being indifferent, she was not altogether heartless. And so she thought of a plan. The shogun looked at her all the time, once more reminded of his late lover, sure that he was about to possess the woman that she had prepared for him. But his daughter had already thought of a plan to stop the sinful union. Telling her father that it was custom for the family of the bride to receive dowry, she was going to ask something of him before she marries him. Seeing that her answer pleased him, she went on, demanding a kimono of the finest silk it was like rippling water, embroidered with so lifelike cherry blossoms it was as if they remained there after a walk in the woods.

' If you love me, sire, as you say you do, then do this for me.'

The shogun agreed.

……….

There were ten great dressmakers and weavers in the empire, and all of them received orders from the shogun to stop whatever it was they were working on and come at once to his home. All obeyed, save one, who was then occupied with finishing a dress for her daughter's first born for his birthday. She had accepted the shogun's summons, but refused to leave home before finishing what was more important to her. The rest had been led to separate chambers by the maid who served tea and each began showing their handiwork, assuring her that they were better than the rest.

The shogun visited each in turn, telling them of his daughter's request and promising a vast amount of money for the most beautiful kimono that they can make, with cherry blossoms embroidered so that one would think them real. And so the work started, the weavers using only the finest silk thread to shape the cloth, and the dressmakers going about the garden and trying to capture the falling pink blossoms with their skillful needles.

The shogun's daughter by now had heard of the activities and was busy with plans of her own.


	2. The Story of the Ten Murders

Get Backers: Golden Bells

Author's note: Yes, this was partly taken from some story the brothers Grimm wrote. I don't remember the particulars, but there it is. I tried making it more morbid than the original… well, brothers Grimm are pretty morbid, XP, and ended up with something reminiscent of Kaori Yuki sama. Hehe. Oh well, let me give you the second part.

Through having but once lifted my eyes to look upon a woman, through one fault apparently so venial, I have for years remained a victim to the most miserable agonies, and the happiness of my life has been destroyed forever.

Clarimonde, Theophile Gautier 

Part 2: The Story of the Ten Murders

All night long, as the seamstresses braved the night with their failing eyesight and a couple of lamps, the shogun's daughter had been busy as well.

She ordered Ren, the maid who carried the tea to the table to stand guard by her doorway that night as she took her guitar from the cabinet. Then, she chose the finest and strongest string and detached it from the pegs, making sure that she made no noise. Swiftly pulling strands of her own long hair, she braided them with the string so tightly they made a fine strong line. After tying each end of the string to the chimes she wore at her hair, she silently retired for the night. Tomorrow night, she would set the plan in motion.

By morning, the seamstresses had finished almost half of the shogun's daughter's kimono. And the shogun himself had seen Katsuki in her rooms to remind her of her promise. To all these she nodded quietly, fingering the chimes that hung at her hair.

Before the moon arose that night, the shogun's daughter entered each of the dressmakers' rooms and strangled every fine worksman with the string attached to the chimes.

Satisfied that nobody will be able to continue the delicate work on the kimono, Katsuki returned to her rooms to find out that the maid, Ren was already there, and she having heard the tinkle of the chimes, guessed what the shogun's daughter had done. The shogun's daughter realized the trouble she would be in if the household knew her crimes. And she knew that she must somehow bring Ren to her side. And so she smiled at the poor maid in her own vague way and whispered such words of love and endearment the puzzled Ren was assured that her mistress was not human at all and incapable of any unspeakable crime; that she was a goddess, and the goddess chose her as her confidante and lover. And blinded by love as she was, as well as her mistress' incomparable beauty, fooled herself into thinking the crimes then committed as a necessary sacrifice rather than the evil they really were.

But Katsuki did not feel safe. And she was not satisfied.

……….

When the shogun found out the murders the next day, he hurriedly sent word to the last seamstress not to come to his house at all, but rather, finish the kimono in her own home. He knew whom it was who committed the crime, but he was so enamored of his daughter to let anything hamper his marriage to her.

Weeks passed by slowly, and the shogun's daughter was relieved that her father had stopped mentioning marriage to her, thinking that he had seen sense at last or at least had been so affected by the unresolved murders. And so she went about her duties as if nothing had transpired.

Until the day came when the tenth seamstress had finished the kimono and had sent her son to the shogun's house to deliver the package to her overlord's daughter. And that was how the shogun and a lowly seamstress had outwitted the shogun's sly daughter.

The goddess was in her rooms when Ren came in, as bidden, and at the sight of the kimono of such beauty, exclaimed her awe and admiration. Sitting down next to her lover to better inspect the finely made dress, to touch the fine white fabric with only the barest hint of purple shadows and the lifelike cherry blossoms, to compare it with the most reverential of tones to sakura scattered on newly fallen snow, she asked, with all due respect for her mistress to try it on.

Katsuki smiled at her, bidding her ardent servant to give her the mirror behind her that the shogun had given as part of the dowry.

And as the maid turned around to do her bidding, the shogun's daughter stood up from behind her, close to tie the string around her neck. Close to tighten the pressure and kill her. The maid dropped in a heap by the goddess' feet, not seeing her gentle smile as she took off her clothes and replaced them with the maid's own frayed ones. Not even feeling the loving kiss the shogun's daughter pressed against her cold lips before wrapping the kimono in a bundle and thus, the goddess left.

Ai: now, isn't that morbid, even if it's pretty short? XP. By the way, vampire fans out there, try reading Clarimond. It's great, really, especially if one's a sensualist, which I am.XP. nothing of Dracula's scary lizard like escapades, and it doesn't even entertain lesbianism like Carmilla's story did. Try downloading it, anyway.


	3. The Story of the Huntsman

Get Backers: Golden Bells

Author's note: now to the last part of the show, wherein I show you everything I learned from Kaori Yuki, especially Ludwig Kakumei, which I love, and this is quite long too. That is, for me. I've always preferred the trusty ball pen to my key board anytime. And at least papers don't emit the waves my monitor might. Isn't that so medieval­?

Anyways, since I typed this at one go… I won't be able to entertain reviews… if there are any. Please let there be! Yoroshikun onegaishimasu!

And oh, mythology fans, yes, I borrowed some parts from Procris and Cephalus. That's a spoiler, I know. But here I am. And I just can't do without borrowing stuff from other stories. I don't know how I'll survive Creative Writing ( which is my course, but you didn't ask. ) now, let me quit bothering you and go on:

There was something diabolically sweet in her tones – something of the 

_tingling glass when struck – which rang through the brains _

_even of us who heard the words addressed to another. _

Dracula, Bram Stoker 

Part 3: The Story of the Huntsman

The shogun's daughter fled the household in her peasant's garb and with the horse she had stolen from her father's stables. The disguise afforded her with enough time to get clear of the village in safety, although she had to cover her face with her hood for it was a face that one seldom forgets. She chose to go by the woods, for she was more or less familiar with it's natural paths since she had often fled there when things got unbearable in the household and play her guitar in peace.

She had not gone deep into the forest when she spied a deep brook. Remembering that she had not eaten all day, she cupped her palms and drank some water from the sparkling brook with a sigh. It was then that she heard someone whistle from behind her. The horse reared with a shrill whinny and ran towards the direction of the noise. Katsuki arose instinctively, knowing that her father's soldiers had espied her and had raised cry. There was no where else to go but cross the brook, which looked treacherous now, instead of the friendly waters it had been when she was thirsty. But it was either that or face her father again. And if she would drown in the process, then it would serve her right. After all, it was unnecessary to have killed Ren. Her Ren. To think that she had died for naught!

But the shogun's daughter had miscalculated the depth of the brook and the pressure of the currents. Gasping for air as the waters claimed her, Katsuki only had one thought. _I'm sorry, Ren…_

……….

The shogun's daughter opened her eyes slowly. Closing them abruptly again when the rays of the sun bathed her face with curiously comforting warmth. A figure leaned towards her, blotting out the rays of the sun and she glanced at the package she held close to her bosom. So, she still had the kimono. How fitting it all was, she thought. It seemed that fighting her father had been like facing her father.

She sat up, looking vaguely at her savior. He was smiling at her gently. ' I hope you had not been trying to kill yourself.' He said. ' That would have been unusual for a lady.'

Katsuki asked him if he could show her the inn, but was informed that there was none in the village. The huntsman offered her his house, however, and told her that he was called Kakei Jubei. The shogun's daughter doubted the wisdom of staying with a man she barely knew. But faced as she was with no other choice, she agreed, however reluctantly.

As they were walking home, with Jubei in front, he suddenly asked her. ' Ren, did you really love him?'

The shogun's daughter frowned at him. ' How did you know about Ren?' she asked tersely.

' You were talking of him in your sleep. I guess you loved him, huh? Is this why you tried committing suicide? But you are a beautiful woman.'

' That is none of your concern.' She answered. ' But yes, I loved him.'

……….

A year had passed since the shogun's daughter had met the huntsman, and since then had tried to keep his house in so a satisfactory way that Jubei was thinking of marrying her. He had the feeling that there was something more to his beautiful visitor's problem than slighted love. She always had a faraway look about her that bespoke of a certain fear. He knew that she treated each day like it was the last. No, she was running from something. And he was more than willing to protect her.

He came in one day from town and told the figure by the fire that the shogun had died the day before.

The woman he had saved checked if the rice was still boiling before answering. ' I didn't know he was sick.' She observed, although her tone was disinterested.

' Oh he didn't die of natural causes. He set fire to his whole house, with himself inside. They say he was mad.'

The dead man's daughter gave him a smile. ' So it was not his son.'

' What son? They say, in town, that he became mad when his daughter died. She was all he had, after his marriage, you know. He didn't have a son.'

' Didn't you know, it was said that it would be his son who would cause his downfall.' She elucidated, absently.

' I hadn't known that.'

……….

The shogun's daughter had reached the crossroads of her life. There were two vague paths that she could take. But neither looked promising. She had chosen one, nevertheless, and stay on it she would. But to do that, she must leave the huntsman.

One day, after Jubei had gone out to hunt, she put on the kimono with the cherry blossoms and went out in search of the path he usually took in search of game.

The huntsman stopped in his tracks when he heard the leaves rustle from behind him. Reaching for his crossbow, he waited for the right time, standing on guard. When the leaves rustled again, he let an arrow fly, hoping it to be a fat animal that he would bring home to his lovely companion that night. What he had heard and saw was not what he wished for.

The shogun's daughter felt the searing pain on her stomach and let out a low cry. The short, strangely impersonal sound cut through the stillness, startling the animals. Katsuki smiled bitterly before falling down.

……….

Katsuki woke up several hours after. Someone had tended the wound. The huntsman looked up at the person he had saved twice with a face so devoid of emotion he seemed to scream out in pain.

' Why did you- How could you?'

The shogun's son rose from the pallet shakily to face his savior with a small smile. ' So you found out.' He said, in a monotone. It was the same voice that the huntsman had loved. But coming from this stranger, it tore his heart apart. ' I didn't mean for you to find out. I was to kill you and go from here. With the shogun dead, I'm free. You see? And now you know. There is no other way. I must kill you.'

' How could you lie like this?'

' I've lived a lie since I have been born. What with the astrologer saying that I would be my father's downfall, he would have me dead, you know that? And so when I was born, my mother told everyone that I was a girl. She herself killed the old woman who helped bring me to this world. It was perfect. And I was perfectly miserable.' He gave a short laugh. ' When she died, she said one thing that was my way out. She did not know what she was saying. But it went as I thought it would. And came to this.'

The huntsman grabbed the bow and the arrow that was still splattered with his love's blood. ' You would kill me? How?'

The other looked down at the torn kimono he was still wearing, fingering the edges where they gaped open to reveal his bandaged chest. ' Oh, I'm grateful to you, of course. But I must survive, you see. I have decided upon that. Ren died for me. I can't die now.' He smiled at the memory, and Jubei saw wistfulness there. ' The kimono is ruined. It's no more. I'm free of him. You saved me from the waters. But you are in the way.'

' Bastard! You killed people and you stand there, saying that you want to live! You don't deserve life. Look at what you did to it.'

' At what the shogun's daughter did to it.' Katsuki corrected. ' I am not her. That woman who killed her maid, whom you loved is no more. I am not her. I deserve a chance at life too, Jubei.'

' Don't say my name.' But the huntsman dropped the arrow. How can he kill that person that bears her face? And to kill a human being! He had not her coldness. ' I trusted you.'

' Oh, my Jubei, my beloved Jubei,' Katsuki pulled out the chimes from his hair. ' I didn't tell you to trust me, did I?'

……….

Ai: I'm not speaking out of experience. Just from what I observe. Love ties you to somebody, when you lose them, they bring part of yourself with them. And yet we could not help but love. Ja ne.


End file.
